At the End of the Night
by xwhenyourenotdown
Summary: How Jade discovered Beck was Canadian, Jade/Beck, rated for language.


During their second summer together, she practically moves into the RV. She's not sure if her parents don't notice or don't care that she comes home maybe once a day to shower.

(She wouldn't even do that if it wasn't for the fact that the RV shower has no hot water and his parents would get very suspicious if she started using theirs.)

It's 3am when he tells her. She's half asleep, being prevented from getting entirely there by the knowledge that he is very much still awake.

(Beck's always too hot, she's always too cold. If she was a sap, she would find that terribly romantic. She's not, so it's more inconvenient than anything else. She'll never admit it, but she always sleeps better when they're intertwined. (She'll never ever admit that that's her favorite part of the relationship.) But he refuses prolonged human contact when it hits 80 degrees and she still wants a blanket, so there's this annoying layer between them. They sleep with her pressed up against the wall and him on the other edge of the bed; both sacrifice an ankle to discomfort and entwine them in the middle.)

"Hey," he whispers.

"Mmmm." she replies. Awake enough to know what's going on, too asleep to properly respond.

"I have to tell you something."

"Mhmmm."

"I'm going to Canada for a week."

"MMMMMMM?" she blinks out of any chance she had to drifting off, "Canada?"

"Yeah, my grandmother's sick..."

(She knows her reaction should be compassion, she knows that's what good girlfriends do, but there are more serious matters at hand.)

"She lives in Canada?"

"Yeah? My entire family does."

"Why?" She sits up and stares at him.

(She's somewhere on the line between staring and glaring. Too distracted by this revelation to know exactly where).

"...I don't know, because they're Canadian?"

"I thought you were Indian."

"My mom's family is, they came from India to Canada," he's sitting up now too, looking perplexed as if he can't figure out why this matters so much to her.

"Are YOU Canadian?"

"Technically."

"Technically?"

(Her tone is icy and she's pretty sure she has distinctly crossed over into glaring.)

"I was born there - why are you asking me this?"

"I knew it!"

(She's suddenly giddy, triumphant, she knew there was something going on. "Every man has a secret," her mother had muttered as she stroked her hair the night dad left (something Jade wouldn't normally tolerate, but it had been a rough day), "Make sure you find out what it is." Canadian isn't perfect (Canada is in fact, solidly on the list of things she hates), but it's better than drugs or cheating on her or leaving her and their kids behind when something better comes along.)

"Knew what?"

"That you had a secret!"

"...It's not a secret."

"Then how come you haven't mentioned it in a year and a half?"

"...I didn't think I needed to?"

(His hands are now toying with her hair, now that her facial expressions are no longer veering into dangerous he seems bemused at the whole situation. She would normally get mad that he isn't taking his Candian-ness seriously, but she is so happy and relieved that she figured it all out.)

"You totally kept it from me on purpose. You know I hate Canada." she falls back onto the pillows.

"Whatever you say," he falls back too.

(Normally she would not accept the fact that he's obviously just trying to appease her, but extenuating circumstances, extenuating circumstances.)

They lie in the darkness for a few minutes before she realizes, "Wait, you're leaving for a week?"

"Yeah, my grandmother's sick."

"Oh."

(Compassion is seriously not her strong suit. She'll listen to people's problems (okay, she'll listen to Beck's problems. Anyone else just gets an eye-roll and a whatever), but is horrible at responding. She tries with him, usually not successfully.)

"...Sorry," she attempts.

"Don't worry, you can continue to be wazzed that I'm Canadian."

"Mmm'not."

"Are too," she can feel him smiling.

"Mmm'wazzed that you're going to Canada for a week," she mutters, "And that you don't need like a passport to get in because you're already freaking Canadian. What, do they like stick you on a moose when you get in? And you have to like... eat maple syrup all the time? And like live in an igloo? Why bother?"

(Her knowledge of Canada is extremely limited. It's north, it's cold all the time, and her mom once gave her this book about Eskimos that turned out to be a total lie. That's all she needs to know - although as she thinks about it, she's not entirely sure the Eskimos were Canadian, so perhaps her hatred of the country is a bit unwarranted.)

"Do you know a thing about Canada?" she can still feel the smiling.

"You're going there and it's far. And they have moose and maple syrup and maybe Eskimos," she turns over so she's facing him, "Is your phone going to work?"

"No... and I'm staying at my grandparents', so no internet either."

"Fucking Canada," she grumbles and turns back to face the wall, "Knew I hated it for a reason."

He shifts and wraps his arms around her. She squirms, "You'll get hot."

"I'll live, it's colder in Canada, I'll just pretend I'm there."

She rolls her eyes at how little sense that makes, but wiggles out of the blanket and tosses it against the wall so she can curl up against him - he's more than warm enough to compensate. She hears his breathing get deeper and more regular and is finally able to drift off herself.

She keeps living in the RV during the week he's away. She's teaching at a theatre camp for tots by day (They're not all terrible. Most of them are, but not all of them.) and returns to the RV by night. She had a key copied ages and ages ago.

(She prefers to enter via her feet so he doesn't know she has it. She might want to use it at some point to surprise him. Also, his parents would probably freak out if they knew that she not only spent all of her time at their 16-year-old son's place of residents but that she had her own key.)

She feeds the fish (she hates the fish, but figures someone should do it), curls up on the couch, watches TV and imagines that he's there. It's not like she has anything better to do. She needs Beck as a buffer to tolerate Andre and Robbie and Cat's off doing... she's not entirely sure what, actually.

And in spite of the fact that Beck's gone so she can have the entire bed to herself and all of the blankets she wants, she sleeps pressed against the wall, an ankle sticking out of the covers looking for something to intertwine with.

She didn't tell him she was planning on staying but he doesn't seem surprised when he comes back a week later to find her in the bed. She's again half asleep, but senses him come in, shrug, and get into bed, ignoring the solitary ankle and pull her against him.

As she relaxes into him and hears him mutter, "I missed you, I love you," she decides that Canada might not be that bad.

(a/n: Jade's "Canadian Eskimo" story is _Mama, Do You Love Me?_ by Barbara M. Joosse. I have no idea if it actually takes place in Canada, but my much younger self very much thought it did. (And yes, I know that Eskimo isn't the proper term - in my head, Jade doesn't.))


End file.
